


The Cool Minibots Club

by Sophisticated_Adult



Series: Mini-Roddy AU [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:26:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7570600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophisticated_Adult/pseuds/Sophisticated_Adult
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have a sign.</p><p>(An AU where everything is the same except Rodimus is a minibot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cool Minibots Club

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first MTMTE fic, I'm only up to issue #45 because I am Bad At Reading Comic Books so if anything is terribly jossed here then I don't know about it!! Probably!
> 
> (I am being a jerk to Whirl in this but I do like him)

They had a sign.

Chromedome had stood on one of the seats to tack it close to the ceiling (in order to get it mostly out of Whirl range, unless he made a real effort), where Rewind's fancy glyph-writing proclaimed the legend:

'The Cool Minibots Club'

Underneath, in Rodimus' messier style after he agreed with Rewind that it was hilarious, a smaller set of glyphs read: 'You Can't Sit With Us.'

This was generally enforced by either Chromedome or Drift, depending on who was free or could be more easily persuaded at the time by big optics and a trembling lip, keeping watch at a nearby table for any unsavoury types (read: Whirl) who might approach them.

It wasn't so much a club as it was just Rodimus and Rewind hanging out. But it made it more fun, and they both enjoyed the envious looks when they took their place at the chosen table.

Especially after Swerve covertly reported that Whirl sat there whenever the minis weren't around, as if daring the universe to say something.

"Also, I don't want to seem, haha,  _desperate_ or anything, but I really think I ought to be allowed to be let in, right?" Swerve's grin was near-manic as he kept his hands occupied with cleaning out a glass he'd brought with him from the bar. 

"Ah, geez, I'm sorry, Swerve, but the sign  _does_ say Minibots," Rodimus said, his smile only somewhat insincere. Swerve was getting pretty good at decoding them. "And you're taller than Rewind."

"It says  _Cool_ Minibots," Rewind added, flawlessly taking advantage of a pause to sip his drink. "And we are the very coolest minibots on this ship. Also, you're taller than me."

"Hey, I own this bar!" Swerve protested. "Is that not cool? Have I been lied to all this time?"

"Is there a problem, gentlemechs?" Drift had smoothly risen from his table, approaching (out of sheer habit) quietly enough to not be heard even without the regular noise of the bar. Rodimus tipped his head in an appreciative nod as Swerve swung around to face him.

"Oh, hi Drift, didn't see you there, we were just having a chat, you know me, chat chat chat! Wait, I think I see-" Swerve turned to look at the bar, where Skids and Cyclonus were very firmly minding their own business - "Skids flagging me down, gotta scoot, keep me in mind if there's an opening, yeah?" Swerve backpedalled a few steps before fleeing to relative safety.

"Thanks, bro." Rodimus held out a hand for a high-five that Drift gently accepted. "D'you mind getting me a refill?" He promptly held out his glass.

"No problem." Drift reached out to take it. "Rewind?" He asked, but was answered by a head-shake.

"Nah. Domey's getting off-shift in a few, we're gonna head up to the viewing gallery for a bit. Enjoy yourself, Roddy, keep the baying hordes at bay while I'm gone." Rewind drained his glass and stood up on his chair before he hopped to the floor and only slightly had to catch his balance. "See ya later." Rodimus raised a hand in acknowledgement as Rewind headed out, then watched Drift go up to the bar and make his order.

Left alone, however briefly, let him wonder. Did a stupid sign and making it a  _thing_ really make being a minibot desirable, envy-worthy? They made their own thing and suddenly people were clamouring to be a part of it. 

"Thanks." He took his refilled glass from Drift, who stood there for a few moments as if waiting for direction. "Oh - yeah, you can sit."

"Finally, I'm in." Drift grinned as he took Rewind's vacated seat, thus proving his point. "Chromedome is going to be  _so_ jealous."

"Eeh, he's not the jealous type." Rodimus waved a dismissive hand. Rewind, now - Rodimus had learned very quickly that any and all nicknames for Chromedome were strictly verboten. Full two syllables, please and thanks, otherwise you had to deal with a quietly simmering Rewind for the next few hours and he was  _no_ fun when he was like that. Anyway, the joke was on Drift because Rodimus had always kind of assumed Chromedome was de-facto allowed in from the start. He only had to ask.

Drift shrugged. "To be honest I'm a little amazed Magnus hasn't shut you down. There's probably something about not being allowed to have your own fun little club somewhere in that Tyrest Accord of his."

"Well, I'm Captain and what I say goes, and I say we have a Cool Minibots Club." Rodimus took a sip of his drink. "With honorary members, where appropriate."

"Then why reject Swerve like that? He barely comes up to my thigh."

"Taller than Rewind. Hey, I only make half the rules. He was pretty specific."

"How about Tailgate, then? I've never seen him around here."

"Well..." Rodimus cast a wary optic at Cyclonus' looming frame, just in case he had some kind of people-are-talking-about-Tailgate sense, but his purple back didn't move, not even to drink. Looked like he was just brooding. "He's never asked. Rewind says we shouldn't send out invites, but to be honest I'm sort of wondering if Tailgate's taking it personally at this point."

The general bar-chatter around them died as the light was briefly blocked at the entrance. Heavy footsteps made the clientele sit up straighter, most thinking some variation of  _oh Primus did he find out about that thing last night._ "Speak of the devil," Drift murmured. Rodimus cleared his throat, squared his shoulders and gathered his Responsible Ship's Captain persona as quiet relief spread throughout the bar when Ultra Magnus stopped at their table.

"Captain," Ultra Magnus rumbled, "I've had a report about a discriminatory club operating on this premises."

Rodimus raised an optic ridge, noting that Magnus wasn't radiating disapproval like he normally did when he was outraged at perversions of justice such as not closing the door the whole way behind you, or failing to password-lock your terminal screen every time you were turned away from it for more than two seconds.

"Gosh, that must be awful," Rodimus said sweetly, utilising a winning smile for maximum sarcasm. "Not being allowed into something because of your height. I wonder what that feels like. It must be  _horrible._ Doesn't that sound horrible, Drift?"

"I did not mention height," Ultra Magnus declared before Drift could simperingly play along. "I note your sign, however." He should, he was nearly eye-level with it. "And I also note that, despite insistence otherwise, there is no strict rule against independent clubs."

"Wow. Who was mad enough to report us and then  _argue_ with you about it? Please say it was Whirl."

"I don't think he's ever reported anything in his life," Drift commented.

"It remains confidential. However, should it be the cause of disruptions and disturbances we may need to examine-"

"Hey, you're saying that if other people are jerks we get shut down?" Rodimus angrily interrupted.

“-Examine protocol for such behaviour,” Magnus finished. “I do note you appear to have members who are not minis." He looked pointedly at Drift. "Therefore, at this present juncture, I wish to make it clear that no rules are currently being broken.”

“Great.” Rodimus hadn't missed the _currently._ “I'll keep that in mind.”

\---

Things happened.

Rewind died.

Then he came back.

\---

Swerve's was still Swerve's, save one difference, and it was really nagging at him. No-one ever said anything about it or acted like it was even there.

“Hey.” Rewind reached up to tap Domey's chin. “I really gotta ask. What's with the sign?” He pointed. “I only ever see Whirl sitting there.”

Said 'copter must have seen him pointing, because he hollered “awkwaaard” from halfway across the bar over the sudden, brittle silence at their little booth.

“It was...something you and Rodimus set up,” Chromedome said finally. “It was just, you know, a thing.”

“Oh.” Rewind looked down at his drink. He still wasn't used to it. A universe where he was taller than Rodimus was a freaky one indeed. “I guess we were pals?”

Chromedome sighed.

“Yeah.”

\---

So intently was Rodimus concentrating on his daily report that he nearly missed the knock at his door.

“Sure, come in,” he called, deciding to edit out that last paragraph about Megatron in case Drift got jealous or weirded out. If it even reached Drift, wherever he was. If Rodimus could even bring himself to send it.

A distraction right around now sounded good.

Or not, because oh Primus that was _Rewind_ and he was not ready for this conversation.

“Uuh, hi,” he said, wearing his brittlest, falsest smile that Rewind would see through in an instant. (The Rewind he'd known, the little inner voice that Rodimus hated oh so much reminded him).

“Hey.” Rewind stopped, staring as if he was surprised about something. What was so special about chairs?

“Yeah, this is different.” Rewind sat down on the mini-sized chair. “Uh – it's normally only that one.” He pointed out the bigger chair for regular-sized mechs next to him. Rodimus shrugged. “Anything I can help you with?”

Please just be something mundane and normal that he could deal with.

“I guess...” Rewind paused. “Wow, this is really awkward. But. I saw that sign at Swerve's? The one Whirl sits under?”

“Yeah.” Rodimus eased his shoulders back. Wow, he was tense. “'S just a. A stupid thing we set up. It wasn't really anything. It was just a sign. Some people took it way more seriously than they needed to.”

“I bet.” Rewind could imagine. “But it seems to me like someone's been taking yours and – and Rewind's spot.”

Rodimus raised an eyebrow. “You wanna go kick him out?”

“If you're up for it.” 

“You know I am.” Rodimus stood up. “Make sure you get my good side. Which is every side.”

It wasn't, couldn't be, the same. But things got a little better, after that. And they made Tailgate's entire week when he got the invitation.

 


End file.
